


wrote my song in blue and green

by clarkestrife



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Quidditch, Ravenclaw!lexa, clarke and lexa make out on the quidditch pitch in front of everyone, oh and clarke sleeps naked, raven is team captain, seeker!clarke, seeker!lexa, slytherin!Clarke, they basically can't keep their hands off each other, this is meant to be nice and happy and kinda hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:38:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkestrife/pseuds/clarkestrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>slytherin!clarke and ravenclaw!lexa face off in the quidditch championship.</p><p>and afterwards, they kiss a lot, among other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wrote my song in blue and green

lexa thinks about clarke in all the ways that their colors blend, in the ways that their souls show up in streaks of green and blue.

they are inverses of each other: the dark green of the crest on clarke’s robes against her eyes, light and blue and full. the regal blue of lexa’s house, etched in proud history and silent wisdom, against her eyes shaded green and gold, soft like summer sunlight through the trees of the forbidden forest. 

they find each other in these colors, intertwined with silver threads that bind them together, like they were woven this way. their hearts and eyes trade colors and protect them within each other. 

they are dreams and secrets and soft things in the night, and when they kiss, it feels like magic.

***

the quidditch pitch swirls with greens and blues, streaks of silver, the wind rushing by carrying the sounds of the match: shouts on high alert, muffled _oomphs_ when the bludgers find their targets, the swift sound of beaters smacking them across the sky. 

the house cup championship is finally here, coming down to what they knew it would be all year: ravenclaw versus slytherin, battling it out in the sky high above the castle grounds.

lexa hopes the rain holds off for awhile longer. she doesn’t mind playing in the middle of a storm; it adds a thrill that can’t quite be replicated any other way. an urgency, a crackling of lightning and the howls of players sliding across the wet grass of the pitch in deep dives. right now, however, she’s been searching for the snitch for nearly an hour and she knows both teams are exhausted. she feels responsible, despite the opposing seeker sharing the half the blame, really. 

that opposing seeker, clarke griffin, sits on her broom at the opposite end of the pitch, an almost lazy smile on her face, as if they have all the time in the world. her green and black uniform fits her well, creating an intimidating outline against the sky. at least, it would be intimidating if lexa didn’t know what clarke looks like when everything is stripped away, her clothes off and her legs spread and her eyes shut in pleasure.

lexa grits her teeth. she swerves beneath raven, who fends off a quaffle from their goal with relative ease, but lexa knows she’s more tired than she lets on. she’s sitting slightly askew on her broom, the way she does when her leg begins to act up. lexa swallows her guilt, ignores the ache in her own muscles, her hands sore from gripping the broom tightly for so long, and dives below the other players, circling the pitch with her gaze focused on finding that tiny speck of gold—

and she sees it, the flash of it near the slytherin bleachers, and then it’s gone.

when lexa glances at clarke to see if she’s spotted it, clarke does the same, and their eyes lock for one frozen moment where they both know what’s about to happen.

even from far away, lexa knows the telltale curve of clarke’s smile.

they’re off, streaking toward the bleachers with insane speed, the wind howling in lexa’s ears. she tightens her grip on the broom, lays low on it, her hair blown back from her face with the force of her flight. she doesn’t waste another look at clarke, though she can feel her fast-approaching. wasting even one more second could mean a loss, and lexa doesn’t like to lose.

neither, she knows, does clarke.

the match ends the only way it can with the two of them barreling toward the same goal, hands outstretched, about to collide—

lexa opens her eyes after the force of the hit and for a moment everything is sprawling, something is on top of her, the wind is knocked out of her lungs, and clarke’s face appears in front of her, her fingertips wrapped around a tiny, fluttering gold ball.

lexa sighs. clarke grins at her.

the weight on her chest is gone when clarke eases to her feet and offers lexa her free hand—the one not holding onto her prize—to help her up.

lexa takes it, but doesn’t let go once she’s standing; instead, she uses the momentum to pull clarke flush against her body and capture her mouth, kissing her hard enough to lean clarke backwards. lexa’s arm is steady around her waist, keeping her upright.

clarke kisses her like they’ve won their own private championship, her arms wrapped around lexa’s neck, green fireworks going off in the dark blue sky and students cheering for their house, the energy of it enrapturing, bright and endless.

lexa feels the fluttering of wings against her ear where clarke’s hands rest, and she thinks clarke is the only thing in the world worth fighting for.

***

slytherin might’ve won the championship, but lexa thinks that if points were awarded for different activities, she would surely be racking them up for ravenclaw right now if the sounds clarke is making beneath her are any indication.

the celebrations start immediately after the match; the slytherin common room is sure to be in full swing, and most of the ravenclaw teammates are willing to overlook the competition in favor of the spirit of a hard-fought match. before clarke can even think about heading there, though, lexa has her sprawled on the bench of the ravenclaw locker room, not able to wait long enough to take her clothes off properly. instead, she pushes her hand down the tight fit of clarke’s pants, all black and green in sleek patterns that curve nicely around her thighs, and straddles clarke on the bench.

 _“fuck,”_ clarke gasps when lexa finds her instantly wet. lexa echoes it, her fingers sliding into clarke, never getting used to just how amazing it feels to touch this girl, how wild and crazy and beautiful it is that this girl lets lexa touch her.

 _“clarke,”_ lexa groans. “fuck, were you thinking about this the whole match?” she nudges clarke’s jaw with her nose, lips ghosting over the hot skin.

clarke laughs that low, throaty laugh that makes lexa dizzy. “you know i was,” she murmurs, bringing her hands up to lexa’s face and smoothing her fingers through lexa’s hair, the braids of which are in disarray both from the intensity of the match and from clarke being unable to stop herself from mussing it.

“i’m always thinking about you,” clarke says, urging lexa’s face up to hers. when lexa meets her eyes, she can’t help but stare. clarke’s icy blue eyes are half lit by the fading sunlight streaming into the room, dust motes rising around them, quiet and tunneled away from the world. clarke kisses her then, long and deep, her hand wrapping around the back of lexa’s neck. “even when i’m kicking your ass,” clarke whispers against lexa’s lips.

lexa bites her bottom lip for that, and when she pushes two fingers into clarke, the smirk is wiped right off her face.

it takes clarke awhile to come, too long for them to not be missed at the post-match celebrations, but only because lexa can’t stand the thought of letting her off easy, bringing her to the edge and back again, her hand working slow and fast until her wrist is nearly numb with pain. she is silently thankful the quidditch season is over now; the last thing she needs is to have to tell raven she’s sore from too much sex.

clarke moves under her, her mouth messy against lexa’s and sweat pressed to her clothes and both of them aching from all of it, from the match and from each other, their muscles tender and sore, but lexa never wants it to end.

***

later, when they finally make it to the party, they separate for a bit, wandering around the slytherin common room after drinks are shoved into their hands.

lexa is listening to raven discuss strategy, analyzing the finer points of the match with intensity, trying to figure out where they went wrong, but she can still feel clarke’s eyes on her across the room.

when she glances up to see if she’s right, the feeling burns low in her stomach. clarke’s gaze is pointed at her, the fire never having left her, even with octavia at her elbow. clarke manages to carry on a conversation with octavia despite staring lexa down, which is a skill lexa has not perfected, since raven is soon snapping her fingers in front of lexa’s face.

“lexa. if we’re going to win the house cup next year we have to get on this shit _now,_ ” raven says.

lexa tears her eyes away from clarke and blinks at raven. “we’ll do it, raven,” she says, and she means it. “we got this.” she knows raven means well; they only got to the championship because raven is such a good captain, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything fully right now except for the way she can feel clarke’s heat across the room.

raven doesn’t look convinced. lexa raises her chin slightly and gives raven the look she reserves for when she _really_ wants to get her point across and she doesn’t want to hear any protests about it. “now drink,” she says firmly.

raven gives in.

clarke sneaks lexa into her room late that night when the party finally dies down enough that everyone is content to crash wherever they are currently sprawled. lexa steps over raven, who is curled around octavia on the rug in front of the fire, and nearly trips over monty. clarke struggles to muffle a laugh as she leads lexa up the steps.

in the darkness of clarke’s four-poster bed, the curtains pulled tightly around them, lexa feels like they are one of the night’s secrets, hidden in the warmth and softness of their blankets and the bodies.

they don’t have sex; lexa is barely awake enough to strip down to her underwear and one of clarke’s sleep shirts before her head hits the pillow. clarke, for her part, sleeps naked, and if lexa wasn’t used to it by now she’d think it was part of clarke’s affinity for teasing her. clarke rolls on top of her and they kiss slowly, sleepily, for as long as they can, before clarke moves her mouth to lexa’s neck with the intention of softly marking the skin there, but is soon fast asleep on top of her chest.

lexa curls her arms around clarke’s bare back and strokes her shoulders until sleep overtakes her, too.

**Author's Note:**

> i just want to say - i am still reeling from That Episode, as i know all of you are. i wasn't sure i would be able to write for these two ever again, but i was inspired by the amazing fic writers that are still writing, still posting, still giving us incredible work to read - thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. it helps me carry on and i hope that this might do the same for you.
> 
> i've been wanting to do a harry potter au for awhile - there are so many good ones out there for clarke and lexa, so thanks also to all the wonderful people writing in that world. this made me happy to write. title is from the van morrison song "blue and green."
> 
> please stay strong. i feel so broken, like so many of you do - but i'm not giving up on clexa and i hope you don't either.
> 
> you can find me at clarkestrife.tumblr.com


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